"Not bad for two people who claim to be 'rusty,'" he said, his voice carrying that familiar dry humour.
I simply smiled in response, and as I glanced at Mark, a thought began to form—one I wasn't entirely sure I should voice. Still, the warmth of the moment gave me a bit of courage.
"Mark?" I began, hesitating for just a second before pushing forward. "I was thinking... since we're already in the festive spirit, maybe we could—" I paused, trying to find the right words. "Well, you mentioned baking cookies with your mom earlier. And I was thinking... if you'd like to, we could bake some. Not to brag, but I'm pretty decent at baking."
Mark turned to me, one eyebrow quirking upward, a mix of curiosity and something else in his expression. "You're offering to bake cookies? With me?"
